


50 Shades of Gay

by brorotica



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Bondage and Discipline, Butt Plugs, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Rings, Dom/sub, M/M, Masochism, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Painplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:57:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brorotica/pseuds/brorotica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is Sam's Dom, and Sam's in trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	50 Shades of Gay

**Author's Note:**

> Dom/sub relationship between Castiel and Sam. Castiel is on top. Orgasm denial, clothespin!play, punishment, flogging, C&BT, Sam is shackled to the ceiling, blindfolded, and gagged. I wrote this because I read the 50 Shades of Grey series and thought that I could write a better D/s relationship in under 5k words than EL James could write in three books. Hopefully I succeeded.

Addiction had always seemed like such a strong word, and Sam had never felt inclined to use it when it came down to his sexual proclivities. Obsession, maybe, or intense adoration, but never addiction. It wasn’t addiction that pushed him to drive thirty-two miles in his shitty little Jeep, and it wasn’t addiction that made him park at the far end of the lot and walk in the dark to the small building, marked only by a neon sign reading Heaven. Addiction didn’t make him open the door, greet the girl at the counter- the one with the hair as red as fire and the eyes that knew what he was there for- and addiction didn’t push him to enter the fourth door on the left, the one painted black.

It was all free will, and it was all on him.

The room was empty, like it always was when he first arrived, and nervously he checked his wrist watch- quarter to seven, right on time for his appointment- before peeling off his shirt, folding it neatly and setting it on the dark bench beside the door. His shoes were next, followed by his jeans and boxers, his watch, the class ring on his right hand. They were all put in a neat pile, Sam watching the door uncertainly the entire time, and when he was finally naked, cock hanging half-hard and heavy between his legs, he knelt down in the middle of the room, hands behind his back and his eyes on the ground.

It was dimly lit, not pitch black but dark enough to where his periphery was in shadow, and Sam wasn’t sure how long he was there, the darkness creeping in on him, before he heard the door open, felt the slight change in the air. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Hello, Sam,” the familiar, hoarse voice said from behind him, and Sam didn’t move, didn’t take his eyes off the floor.

“Sir,” he managed after a moment, and the sound of boots against the ground behind him nearly made him shift, the hard ground digging into his knees. He would be bruised in the morning, if the man behind him had his way, and he didn’t exactly mind. That was the entire reason he came here, after all. He could, for a few short hours, relinquish all control to the other man, make entirely certain that the weight of the world was off his shoulders, and it was a welcome relief.

Light fingers ran through his hair, tilting his head back, and Sam found himself looking into a pair of eyes as blue as ocean. “It’s been two weeks,” Castiel said, voice low, disappointment running through it like a current. Sam shuddered involuntarily. “Where have you been?”

“Work… sir.”

“Too busy for sex. I understand.” Sam shifted uncomfortably. Not too busy for sex, not really. Not with his ex-girlfriend stopping by. Castiel frowned. “Tell me.”

“Sarah stopped by.”

“Oh.” The word is more threatening coming from Castiel than it would be from anybody else, and Sam knows he’s fucked up. “You had sex with her.” His fingers slip from Sam’s hair to the back of his neck, stroking the skin there lightly. “You didn’t tell me first.”

“It just sort of happened.”

“It just sort of happened, sir.”

“Yes, sir.” Sam swallowed, a sort of thrill traveling through his entire body. Castiel was going to punish him, he was certain of that much, but he wasn’t really certain how.

He got his answer when Castiel forced his head down, pushing Sam into a prostrate position against the ground, his cheek pressed to the cold tile. Castiel slid one of his boots along Sam’s face, coming to rest against his neck as he held him there. Sam didn’t dare to make eye contact. He was a great deal larger than Castiel, maybe half a foot taller and a hell of a lot heavier, but the other man was in control, and Sam never doubted that for a moment. “Tell me what you did to her.”

“I fucked her, sir,” Sam said, his neck beginning to ache, his back hurting from the position he’d been forced into.

“I know that. What did you do?” Castiel never got angry. If he did, his voice never changed, his eyes never showed it, and he stayed calm, cool, relaxed. Sam trusted him implicitly, knew that Castiel was never going to hurt him or push his boundaries beyond what they’d consented to, and he knew that whatever punishment was doled out tonight, he would deserve it for going against the other man’s wishes.

“She came over to pick up her things and… things happened. We got in a fight. I kissed her, and she kissed back, and she let me… she let me fuck her against the wall, sir.”

“So opaque,” Castiel said, sounding disapproving, and his boot left the back of Sam’s neck. Sam didn’t dare sit up, however, and for a moment he was sure Castiel was amused before the other man walked away. There was the sound of things being moved around and Sam knew Castiel was looking for the right tool, the perfect punishment. Eventually, Castiel came back, fingers slipping through Sam’s hair as he tugged him to his feet, stands on tiptoe to trace his jaw with his tongue. “You’ve been so disobedient.”

“Yes, sir.”

Castiel pinched him hard on the stomach, blue eyes roving over Sam’s face. “I didn’t ask you to speak. I know you were disobedient. You’ve made that clear.” His hand travels down to Sam’s cock, runs over the head lightly before he slides a cock ring over it, pressing it all the down against the base. “You need discipline, and that’s achieved through punishment.” He paused, looking at Sam quietly before glancing up at the ceiling. Sam immediately knew what was coming, eyes flicking upwards momentarily in order to take in the shackles suspended from the ceiling. They were of an adjustable height, and rarely used. Sam couldn’t ignore the thrill of excitement that pulsed through him at the thought.

“Give me your hand,” Castiel said, and Sam offered it willingly, his heart in his throat. Castiel leaned up, grasping one of the shackles and tugging it down, attaching it around Sam’s wrist and snapping it in place. The metal was ice cold and Castiel did it up so tightly that it bit into Sam’s skin, but he shoved down the pain he felt and waited as Castiel did up his other arm. He was forced to stand on tiptoe in order to stop the cuffs from hurting him any further, his muscular body stretched out a good deal more than he was used to.

Castiel looked up at him, seemingly pleased with what he’d done, although it was difficult to tell from the expression on his face. He moved out of Sam’s periphery and Sam didn’t attempt to strain to see him, not when he knew it would only lead to more punishment on his end. Not trusting Castiel wasn’t an option, not in the slightest. He had to trust him in order to make it through their scenes, and their entire relationship was built on Sam trusting Castiel with every single fiber of his being.

There was the noise of Castiel shuffling something around and then he returned, reaching up in order to fasten a blindfold around Sam’s head. It blocked out all light, all ability to see, and Sam let out a slight sigh as his vision was entirely obscured. Castiel dragged his finger along Sam’s front, pausing right before he got to his cock. He withdrew his hands entirely after a moment, Sam shuddering a little at the lack of contact.

Castiel stepped lightly and Sam had no idea where he'd gone, squeezing his eyes closed behind the blindfold and attempting to concentrate. It was to no avail, however, and he eventually gave up. If Castiel was going to touch him, he would do so in his own time. Unless, of course, this was the punishment. Shackled to the ceiling, the air cold against his cock, but with absolutely no hope of release, not without Castiel's aid. Sam swallowed, terrified of the prospect, but a moment later something cold was pressed to his ass and he realized Castiel was lubing him up. "You haven't been taking care of yourself," Castiel said, pushing a lube-slicked finger past the tight ring of muscle. "You're so tight."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"You keep saying that but I don't actually believe you are." Another finger was pushed in and Sam managed to bite back a groan. This wasn't about his own pleasure at the moment, no matter how much he was retaining thanks to Castiel's careful ministrations. His dick was painfully hard, the cock ring biting into sensitive skin, and he was starting to wonder how much more of this he would have to endure before the fingers were gone and something larger, something thicker, was being pressed against his ass.

It was long and Castiel pushed it in slowly, although it seemed to taper at the base. Sam finally recognized the fact that Castiel was slipping a butt plug in him and he knew he was in for one hell of a night. "You remember the safe words?" Castiel asked as he slid the butt plug in all the way.

Sam nodded, swallowing. "Hunt if I want you to ease off. Shoot if I want you to stop, sir."

"Good boy," Castiel murmured, and then he was yanking Sam's head back by his hair and forcing a ball gag in between his lips. Sam clasped down on it readily, doing nothing as Castiel tightened the gag around his head, making sure it was in place. "Stay completely silent," he said, and then he was gone again.

Sam didn't move, didn't dare to breathe heavily, terrified and aroused all at once. When Castiel returned, it was with clothespins. He slapped Sam's chest, and Sam winced but didn't pull away, his eyes wide behind the fabric covering his face. He could feel some spit dripping down his chin, but didn't bother to do anything about it- not that he could have anyway. Castiel ran his hand along Sam's pec, pinching and pulling at the skin before attaching one clothespin after the other in a straight line across his chest. It nearly went from armpit to armpit, stinging more than it was painful, but he knew it wasn't over yet, and he knew it wasn't as cruel as Castiel could be.

His thoughts were confirmed as Castiel ran a finger down his hard cock, stopping at his balls. "Do I put some here, too?" he asked, his tone unreadable but his finger lazily stroking along his balls. Sam swallowed, attempting to show no fear. After all, it wasn't fear, not really. Simply apprehension, uncertainty about the pain. He had been doing this long enough to know his limits, know exactly when to say when, and Castiel had been in charge of him long enough to have a fairly good idea about what he would and would not do.

Sam nodded after a moment, throat sticking slightly as he attempted to wrap his mind around the pain currently spiraling out in little tendrils on his chest. “Yes, sir,” he finally said, voice muffled by the gag pressing against his tongue.

“It’s a fitting punishment,” Castiel mused, and there was a moment where his hands left Sam’s balls before his mouth was there instead. Tongue sliding along the hot skin there, it took every bit of Sam’s restraint not to cry out, his dick already aching for release. The pain mingling with the pleasure Castiel was causing him was almost mind-melting, the combination absolutely overwhelming. Castiel pulled away from his balls once they were soaking wet, hauling off and slapping Sam’s inner thigh as hard as he could.

Sam jerked forward slightly and Castiel grabbed his balls, twisting slightly. When Sam cried out in pain, he could practically feel Castiel’s smile, the other man letting go and giving them a light stroke before snapping one of the clothespins to the sensitive spot in between his two balls. Tears sprung to Sam’s eyes, absolutely unbidden but still warranted, and soon his balls were dressed up in the same fashion as his chest. The pain was nearly unbearable but Sam could feel, somewhere inside him, the beginnings of absolute pleasure. He was feeling so full from the metal in his ass, the clothespins pulling at his skin, and to make matters worse he no longer knew where Castiel was.

Leather touched his stomach and Sam knew what was coming before the strips hit him hard. He was certain there were red marks on his skin now, the flesh burning where Castiel had hit him, but he didn’t have time to reflect on it before Castiel spoke, his voice low. “Count, Sam.”

“One,” Sam choked out around the gag.

Castiel hit him again, this time on the chest, and a few of the clothespins snapped off, clattering against the ground. Sam cried out and arched his back, the pain coursing through him before being replaced by a dull ache. Pleasure shot straight to his cock, his balls giving an unruly throb. “T-two,” he managed around the gag, beginning to wonder if he’d be allowed to come or if Castiel was going to punish him in that sense as well.

Three more hits followed the first two, and by the time the fifth one rolled around, Sam was beginning to think his cock was going to explode. He was going absolutely out of his damn mind. All the clothespins but one had hit the ground by the time Castiel stopped, apparently sated, and Sam relaxed as much as the chains would allow, his chest heaving as he panted. His skin was on absolute fire and he was sure he’d be red the next day, but after a moment Castiel pressed a few small kisses to the heated skin, his hand moving down to Sam’s balls, tugging the clothespins there off slowly.

“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson?” he asked, casually pulling the last pin off Sam’s balls, massaging the sore skin there slowly. “Or should I hit you a few more times?” His fingers closed around the handle of the butt plug and he pulled it out agonizingly slow, letting it fall to the floor as well. Sam felt empty and sore and bursting at the seams, but he nodded nonetheless, his voice sticking in his throat.

Castiel reached up and pulled the gag out, the spit-slicked ball hitting Sam’s chest. The blindfold was the next to go and Sam looked down at Castiel, who was still fully clothed and looked pleased with himself. “Have you realized what you did was wrong?”

“Yes, sir,” Sam said, looking down at Castiel and pleading for him to take the cock ring off. Castiel smiled at him and reached down, rolling the cock ring up off of Sam’s engorged cock. A few quick strokes and Sam had come, seed splattering the tile floor. The orgasm was intense, but all orgasms brought about by Castiel were, his mind fuzzy from the post-sex high.

Castiel undid the shackles and Sam nearly sank to the floor, but froze instead, watching Castiel for instructions. “You can get your clothes,” Castiel said, seeming amused, and Sam gave him a slight smile before walking over to his pile of clothes, tugging them on carefully, his skin still buzzing with the high brought on by the flogging.

Once he was finished, Sam looked at Castiel expectantly, staying quiet. “Same time next week?” Castiel asked, and Sam looked him over.

“Do you need me to take care of you tonight, first?” He paused, watching Castiel for any sign of consent. “Sir,” he finally added, and Castiel genuinely smiled.

It was rare, and it was nice, and Sam smiled in return. “I’m okay,” Castiel said, waving slightly. “I’ll see you again soon. You can take care of me then.”

Sam nodded and walked out of the room, taking the words as a dismissal. He made his way back outside, where the hot night air felt decidedly unnatural, and walked over to his Jeep, climbing inside and looking down at his chest. The fabric of his t-shirt was providing some relief, but a nice, long, hot bath sounded in order.

At least, of course, until the next week.


End file.
